


New born

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Crack Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Kinda, basically the Queen guys are mutants, because of Ben Hardy and the symmetry with my previous the mutants are rockstars AU, people are not super accepting, super powers, they're mutants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:41:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: AU/crossoverThe Queen boys are mutants. Join them as they discover their abilities, meet and make sweet mutant music.Super-self serving X-men AU not to be taken seriously. Just a bit of fun, really ;)





	1. Dawn

They all had different beginnings.

Freddie had enjoyed singing all his life, but didn't think it would do anything beyond entertaining people. Didn't realise in what it could turn – into what it would evolve. After some time he realised that his singing voice had a... peculiar effect on people. They would often stop what they were doing and come to him, as if in some sort of trance. When he stopped singing, they often didn't remember how they'd got there, and what they were doing.

This didn't work with his regular voice, never when he spoke. But the moment he sang a couple of notes.. It didn't work with everyone and some people were able to snap out of... whatever it was. But others... Freddie discovered that sometimes he could get them to do things if he sang an order, something like making him a sandwich or giving him five pounds. They would do it, and then forget they had done it.

It was a bit creepy, especially because he didn't know why he was able to do these things. They were a pretty closed up household, and mutants weren't very common in their corner of England, or considered to be newsworthy. There were so few of them anyways. Freddie hadn't even considered the possibility: those things ran in families, and his had been nothing but boring and plain the last, what, 200 years?

(What Freddie didn't know, was that his mom had some abilities too. They just helped her keep warm in winter and cool in summer, nothing too obvious but it was there. She never told her husband and had hoped that her children would take after his father. That apparently wasn't the case.)

Just one song from him and she realised. She explained what it was and gave him some money to get away, an excuse. His father wouldn't accept it if he realised, and it would uncover her secret too. It was best if he went to some place more.... accepting. Someplace friendly.

And so Freddie left for his new life.

 

**

Brian had always been a very bright kid, with a bit of an obsession with the stars and outer space. His parents didn't think too much of it, they were just glad that if he kept this interest he would end up a scientist, which was something much better than... you know, a criminal, or druggie, or god forbid, an artist. Some people thing it would be a fleeting childhood interest, like some kids' dinosaur phase, but no.

Brian kept his interest for the stars, the planet and even the space in between planets, the voids and the black holes. Visits to the planetarium were a common thing for him and he grew up surrounded by scale planets, telescopes and all sorts of gadgets like that. Just a kid who loves his outer space.

It was when he was a teen that things started getting really weird. He would have the most vivid dreams about galaxies and planets far away, as if he was there himself. And he somehow knew where this place was, in which quadrant of which galaxy and when he tried to fact check his dreams was seemed possible. Yes, there was a Nebula there, yes there was a planetoid on the other side, how did he know? (Because this capacity to know the space had always been in him, even before it manifested itself)

The thing was, he knew. He could write detailed maps of entire galaxies just with his memory. He could somehow feel some uncanny stuff, like the trajectory and speed of an asteroid, or when a comet was passing near earth. People were a bit crept out by this, but imagined he must have had a way to learn these things, that he claculated it with his telescope. Something.

(They got him a guitar so that he would stop thinking about space. Foolish people. He could play the guitar and think about space).

Then the day after his nineteenth birthday, it happened. He was looking at the day sky when something took hold of him, and suddenly there stars, constellations in his eyes. The whites and blue irises were gone, replaced by a a piece of some far away night sky. There was a shower of interplanetary dust in their little town that day.

He left shortly after.

 

**

John, Deaky for his friends, was a nice calm boy from a nice calm family. He was kind with people, deceptively smart and had a finely tuned sense of humour (mostly soft yet crushing irony). Nobody ever thought of him as superstar material: he was too quiet, too shy. He wasn't as interested as other boys in sports, instead turning his attention to machines and electricity.

Deaky enjoyed electricity as if it were an old friend. It wasn't the focus of his life, mind you, he had many other interests like music, but it was something he knew his way around, and everybody around kind of knew that it you had an electrical problem, you could always count on Deaky. He never got shocked, he always got things working again. Maybe he should have know that if he got any abilities, they would have to do his main skill.

As he grew up, things that shouldn't be happening started to happen. If the lights went he could bring them back with his hands. He could change the channel of the volume of the tv and he could play the bass from a distance as long as it was plugged in. But these things didn't bother anyone much, “just Deaky being an oddball, as usual.”Nobody thought too much of it except for the casual “maybe you could go on telly, show what you can do.”

But then there was a fight, and he defended himself by giving electrical discharges. Mild ones, of course, and he was in control of what he was doing at least most of the time... But people became terrified of him, decided that they didn't want that boy anywhere around them or their families. Deaky was sad, but understood.

He set out to look for a place where he could find like minded people, people who would understand what he was going through, and accept him even with all this extra.... baggage. Something like friends.

 

**

Roger's father was very clear on mutants: they were all aberrations and they should be wiped from the earth, as they posed a danger the good law abiding people like him and his family. Those people could do the most awful things, and force you to do awful things as well. Roger often thought about how it would anger the old man if he or his sister turned out to be mutant, he imagined himself creating balls of fire, or with green skin all over.

Roger did a lot of things that would make any old father angry. He was sure that if he'd been a woman he'd been called a million times a slut by now. He didn't take anything seriously enough, not his studies, not his love life, not being a good son. Nah, all he cared about was playing drums, speeding with his cars and conquering ladies while very intoxicated. He was a beacon of sin. Which made what happened next so very, terribly, ironic.

At first he thought he'd slept in a bad position. He often slept in the weirdest places (cars, school chairs, in some occasion even living rom tables... So it was normal that his back would complain a bit. Nothing unusual. Only, after sleeping properly in a bed for several nights, the pain was only getting worse. He probably be calling a doctor, but their doctor knew his dad, and he didn't want his dad to lecture about how his dissolute lifestyle would end his health or something like that.

He simply endured, and took some painkillers. But the pain only got stronger and Roger felt that something was wrong, something was very wrong. In fact, something was wrong on his back: and it wanted out. After two excruciating weeks, they broke the skin, and came out: big wide wings, covered in white feathers and goo. He had wings. He, Roger Taylor, slut drummer extraordinaire, had a pair of beautiful angel wings.

Of course, he was kicked out immediately, hearing things from “this has to be the work of the devil”, to “he could knock us all out with those wings” etc etc. Roger didn't care all that much. He felt badass, he felt...complete. The ladies were going to love him and he would be able to fucking fly places. Somehow, even before the first time he'd used them, he felt he knew how to fly.

He would continue to be his usual sinful self, but now he would have wings.

Pity about all those jackets he was gonna ruin tho. And did he fit in the car with those wings? Who cared. It was a new day, and he would find other sinful freaks like himself to make the most of it. That he would. The new day belonged to all sorts of weirdos: mutants, activists, even winged drummers.

And the new day was just dawning.

 


	2. Morning

Freddie was now living in a small apartment, happy to be on his own. The place was very small indeed, but it had a bed and a piano and he needed little else. With the money her mother had given him (bless her and her organised self) he was able to pay for the rent and eat (soup cans and old bread, but it was enough). He also did some odd jobs and gathered money to put an ad in the papers.

This was the best way Freddie had thought he could look for mutants without having to out them to the world, this way, they came to his house and only told him their secret. He wouldn't look for mutants, of course, or else he would have a bunch of antis ready to beat p everyone that came through that door. No, he did it more subtly, in code, but somehow making sure people knew. The classified read simply:

“Singer looking for musicians for EXTRAORDINARY band. Special musical abilities VERY welcome”

The first people he got (two guys the first day and a woman the second), didn't have the necessary... qualifications. Yeah, they were nice and enthusiastic and they played decently, but they didn't have the spark that Freddie was looking for, the zest, the fire. To be part of his band (that was just an excuse to meet other mutants) they needed to have personality, an interesting life and way of looking at things....Something else, something that made them stand out.

After a couple of days of no shows and some more boring people, Freddie started to think that maybe he would need another strategy. Well, at least the ad would help him meet some cool musicians to hang out with, even if they weren't mutants. Maybe he could do the band after all – if only with more regular, but nice and interesting people.

Those were his thoughts when he met John (Deaky, call me Deaky) that this was just some regular guy that he liked, could see himself being friends with. Deaky was a long-haired guy just out of his teens who was kind, he could play bass like a pro and provided a calm, chill presence that contrasted with his own histrionics in a very pleasant way. He was a good musician and a good person. Maybe not exactly the idea Freddie had, but a good someone to know.

And then one day the lights started flickering (the electrical installation was so bad in these apartments) and the most unexpected thing happened. John simply put his hands to where the main installation was, in the basement – and sparks came out of his hands. After John's magic touch, suddenly they had stronger lights, not a single flicker and more power in every apartment. Deaky looked at Freddie apologetically.

“You said you wanted special abilities...”

Freddie hugged the other boy, who was very much surprised. No one reacted like this to what he was, people were generally put off.

“Oh, darling, you're exactly what I was looking for.”

They talked about many things: about how they found out, about their families and friend and the rejection and fear they saw in the faces of people who, until then, hd been loving and supporting. People who simply stopped trusting them because of what they were, of something they hadn't chosen. At least they had their music, a never judging companion.

Brian came along the next week. He had a head of black curls and a fairly diplomatic character – he was quite a peculiar guy. He was very logical, but felt things intensely too, one even could say that he felt things and lived things in another level: a galactic level. And he was a quite down-to-earth guy despite the scope of his abilities.

His gift was one of the oddest the others had encountered or even heard of: Brian was able to know and see whole galaxies far away, and if he concentrated enough he could control small outer space elements like little asteroids or space dust. He could change its trajectory, the speed in which it was moving and even bring them to him. And when he did anything of the sort (looking at a galaxy, bringing a little asteroid home) there would be stars in his eyes.

It was odd, especially considering what a nice non-crazy dude Brian was. He had a lot of other interests besides space: he played the guitar, he could cook decently and he helped the others in their day-by-day. He was the best of them dealing with the anti mutant hate because he knew how to be soft but convincing at the same time.

It was Brian who suggested getting a bigger place for the three of them. This way, if there were any incidents, the others would be able to help, and they would be able to afford something better putting together their few earnings. It was logical but most of all it was helpful, because this way they wouldn't have to find three landlords that rented to mutants (it was getting harder) or hide what they were, just one decent person or one that liked money more than they hated mutants.

Freddie updated the address in his classified ad, still daydreaming about the band he could make with Deaky and Brian, that probably would never happen. He really didn't know why he was putting the ad again, finding someone as awesome as his current flatmates seemed almost impossible. He'd been that lucky twice but three times...

Living together was easier than they thought it would be. They were different people with very different personalities and needs, but respected each other a lot. In a world where everyone seemed to despise them, that kept calling them monsters and aberrations they had each other, a friendly helpful shoulder to lean on. It was somebody that understood what they were going through, someone who didn't judge.

And someone that had at least one shared passion: music. They wrote song for their non-existent all mutant band, they imagined their concerts, they thought about riffs and choruses. Some of the songs were about their struggles, others were just catchy pop love songs. But this was probably never going to come true in the current anti-mutant climate.

Outside of the safe haven of their little apartment, things were getting worse for mutants. There were protests, there was many anti groups, there was a lot voilence and and a lot of beatings. The hatred was rising, and it made everything difficult. Getting a job was near impossible if you were a mutant (I'd just... prefer to hire somebody normal, you know? There are families that come here) and the only chance they had was pretending you weren't hiding it.

People with visible mutations weren't as lucky as them – they could never hide what they were, so they were never given chances. These people had it very hard – there were beatings of mutants practically every day, and they got spat on and insulted while they walked on the street. Many places didn't allow mutants to enter, there were even some police officers and authorities that refused to help them. It was bad.

They were discussing this one rainy afternoon in their living room.

“I mean, we have it bad, but people with visible mutations...”

Almost as magic just then there was a knock on the door.

“I saw your ad. You wouldn't happen to still need a drummer for your band, right?”

It was a drenched long haired blonde with big white wings. He looked cold, exhausted and way too skinny, so Freddie didn't hesitate letting him in. It was welcome change. The last couple of weeks... had been pretty bad. He didn't leave his home with a lot of money, and no one would hire him, to do even the most menial things (if we hire you then other muties will think this is a good place for them... I can't risk it). He roamed the streets for some days, managed to feed himself with leftovers. But it was so cold.

He entered a church, thinking that given the nature of his mutation they wouldn't reject him there. But although in the beginning they were nice, it only lasted a couple of days. Then started the questions about what he'd done to earn his wings, and the theories that this was a trick of the devil, the people saying that he was an abomination, an insult to true angels (you're not an angel, you're a blasphemy!).

The nicest people were single young women with no families: if there was no one else in the apartment, no one would judge them for harbouring a mutie. But he couldn't stay for more than a couple of days without becoming a burden, and this was no way to live. That day someone clubbed him on the head from behind and beat him while he was down. And it was raining and he felt.... alone, forsaken, useless. And then he saw the wet ad looking for musicians with special abilities. And he missed his drums, a lot. And what did he lose for trying?

“Oh, darling, you look awful! And we actually do need a drummer, don't we, guys?”

“We do.” Brian said. He didn't know why, but he felt like this guy could be a good fit for them. Just looking at his eyes and hearing that one sentence from him gave him a good vibe, as if they'd been friends for a long time. “But before anything I think we should let....”

“Roger.” Winged boy helpfully provided.

“We should let Roger have a nice hot shower and a change of clothes. We can't have a prospective new drummer catching pneumonia before playing us anything, right?”

Roger could have wept with joy. The shower was great and they offered him clean warm clothes, not minding that he wold tear them with his wings. And they offered him a home, someone to clean his wounds, someone to listen to him. He felt he could breathe again. He'd been on the verge of giving up, and these guys had given him a second chance.

The others liked Roger too. He was a bit too much sometimes, and he had very strong opinions but his heart was definitely in the right place. He may not have the refnied intellect of Brian or the soothing demeanor of Deaky, but he had energy, he had ideas, and he wanted to make something for the right cause. He wanted to help, he wanted to be part of something, and most importantly, he wanted to do music.

And hell, why not try? They had a singer, a guitar player, a bassist and a drummer and a lot of ideas.

They could the next great band of british rock and roll.

They would give all outsiders be it mutants, gays, immigrants, women every single person who had been treated like less would have a band that represented them, that fought for them, that made them see that they, too, could be great.

And they would be great. They would become bigger than anyone else... Royalty.

 


	3. Noon

They realised how good they were when they played together in a very short time. They had very basically musical minds, even if they hadn't practiced all that much. Still, Freddie had been singing for a long time, if not professionally and Roger had already known how to play the drums before the wings happened, so they had a very nice base.

It didn't take long for Brian to become some sort of guitar genius, too, which surprised no one. He was already a very intelligent and gifted young man, it was only logical that those gifts would translate to incredible musical abilities. John also learned quite quickly, and was very good at coming up with new melodies.

Between Brian and Freddie (mostly) they ended up with a very decent number of songs for a concert, for what would be their first gig. They were quite good at harmonising, and the four of them matched better than any of them would have imagined. Everybody had a place in the band: although Freddie and his voice and theatrics were the protagonist of many songs, the were riffs and solos for Brian and Deaky, and they discovered that Roger could sing in falsetto, which was great for backing vocals.

The lyrics were about all kinds of things: love, greatness, some struggles... The life of young people in that day and age, specially people who for one or reason or other didn't have it easy. It spoke about the mutant struggle – but not only about it: Queen's lyrics were about all types of struggle, and everyone felt included, everyone felt that those lyrics spoke to them.

The complicated part now was finding a place that would book them, what with them being absolute beginners, with zero fans and on top of everything, mutants. They thought about playing on the street, but were worried about the antimutant people attacking them and destroying their instruments in a rage. They really couldn't afford to lose their instruments.

They ended up finding a small place who was on the verge of closing and needed some music to attract people. It was small and difficult to find, but they put up some flyers with a picture of themselves and small map in unis and clubs, and hoped for the best. People were curious about what kind of music these four long haired dudes may be doing, and because Roger was in the back and you couldn't very well see his wings, no one realised this was a mutant band until they were already there.

Their first concert was a blast. Maybe not the most polished sound, but they had a lot of fun, and the public did too. Very much enjoyed their energetic, unapologetic fun music. It was a great day that felt like a success and it only gave them more motivation to continue with the band.

Which they did. In a couple of short months and thanks mostly to the word of mouth, Queen already had a very decent following, some very loyal fans that followed them and recommended them to people who lived in other cities. Their songs were liked by all kinds of people, mutants and non mutants and they all joined together in their love for this band.

Queen was a force for inclusion, for harmony. It brought them together. While Freddie was the most popular guy and now graced the binders of many young men and women (and also had signed like a million photos), the others also had their fair share of admirers. People who knew their names, chanted their songs, made signs. It was an acceptance and a love that they had never felt, much less after discovering they were mutants.

“Keep yourself alive” became a kind of anthem for mutants, especially for those who had it bad in their homes or towns. It was an energetic song and it became a sort of defense mechanism. When faced with insults, with mocking, they would just sing and their songs were louder than that hatred, without being violent. It made antis really angry, and it made mutants proud and happy. It was a great defense and they guys were happy to have contributed to a lot young mutants feeling that they had a voice.

The fact that the only mutant with a visible mutation was Roger who was so breathtakingly good looking did a lot good for their image, too. The image of the band, the image of mutants, the image of muties with extra limbs. Before there had been a lot of people who who had said that they would never get together with a mutant like that “I just don't find it attractive”, they'd say or “I would be afraid that they'd use their abilities on me”. It was hard flirting when you were a mutant. But now...

Everybody wanted a piece of their usually shirtless winged drummer. Nobody cared about the mutation, about what he could do, they just wanted more of that angel faced drummer boy. (The others had fans too, of course, but it didn't compare. Roger was simply prettier than them)

After some very successful months of touring, a recording company offered them a deal for a record. It was a bold move as most enterprises didn't want to associate their enterprises with mutants, but it was clear that these boys could get them a lot of money, so the mutant angle wasn't that important. Of course, the album helped people get to know them better, even outside England. It was a successful album and it inspired many other mutants to try and perform with their bands as well.

Queen became one of the most popular bands in the country and even the most close minded people found themselves singing their songs.

Of course, there were still issues, especially with the anti mutant groups. Mutant haters weren't happy with how popular these boys were becoming, how their daughters were fantasizing with actual mutant men. There was much talk about how Queen was perverting the youth of today, how they were a bad example. Their concerts were often the target of attacks, sometimes with spray paint, sometimes flaming cocktails were thrown at the stage. If they had been America they probably would have been shot at already.

There was a direct attack at the end of the tour for their first album, with near fatal consequences. One of the members of the main anti mutant group infiltrated the backstage, and started sneaking up on Roger, the target of most of the hate because of his wings and how popular he'd become. And then he held him by the neck and started choking him. Roger thrashed, his wings and legs making awful sounds, but this man had military training and his choke hold was near inescapable.

Brian walked in a stopped the man with some threats of comets in the direction of his home, but it had been a close call. After that, a picture was taken. A picture of Roger's angel face and his mangled neck. Just that, a close-up of the scared look, the teary eyes, the reddened neck. That caused a whole big change against the anti mutant groups. Who would try to harm such a sweet creature? Who was the real monster?

Brian's words also had a big impact. “If I had walked in ten minutes later, I wouldn't have found my friend. I would have found his body, because while he was peacefully rehearsing with his drums, someone tried to murder him.” The outcry was global. Someone had tried to literally kill one of the members of one of their favourite bands, a sweet boy with blue eyes and an odd but amazing voice, just because genetics had dictated he would grow wings. It wasn't fair.

It was uncanny, how much one simple rock band could do for the perception of society as a whole. After Roger's incident, it was not okay to say that you didn't like mutants, much less that you were part of an anti mutant group. Mutants were suddenly the good guys, victims of the hatred of bad people. Violent, horrible aggressors and killers. It wasn't okay.

The next concert, Roger mentioned how that day he wouldn't be able to sing because his neck wasn't completely okay in a raspy voice, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. They become even more popular thanks to that: just by keeping themselves alive and doing their music, they'd become legends. Heroes.

On the other side of the Atlantic, in a manor in Westchester, someone was smiling.

“Hello, Mr. Mercury? My name is Charles Xavier. I have a proposition to make to you and your band.”

 


	4. Evening

Charles Xavier's school for the gifted was one of the biggest and most majestic building the Queen boys had ever seen. After many years living in teeny tiny apartments, just huge ass building didn't even seem real. And to think that the whole building was dedicated to giving shelter and education to mutants... It was incredible, but an awesome kind of incredible.

As they were admiring that majestic wonderful building a girl with white hair started running towards them. More specifically, towards Roger.

“Warren! Warren, oh my god! I thought you were dead!”

The girl was sprinting and she had a most joyous expression in her face. Whoever Warren was, they had been friends.

“Warren!”

But as she got closer her face fell, her joy dying down.

“It's not him” A blue boy who had materialised out of nowhere said. “He looks like him, but it is somebody else.”

Roger was utterly confused.

“Sorry, you just look very much like a boy we used to know. Velcome to Xavier's school for the gifted, my name is Kurt, this is Ororo.” Blue boy said, smiling and offering a hand, which Roger happily stretched.

“Pleasure, I'm Roger, these are Brian, Freddie and John.”

“Oooh, I know, I saw you in Munich! Your scream in the beginning of My fairy king put my vhole body on edge, from my hair to the tip of my tail!”

“Thanks, man!”

“We should probably take you guys to the professor, right?” Ororo said, when she finished staring at those very enticing british boys. Huh. So this was the band Kurt liked so much. Not bad, not bad.

The professor was a soft spoken man with kind eyes who seemed very pleased to meet him, very excited.

“You're a huge hit here in the school, my students love your songs, your whole vibe. You really made a difference for a lot them, inspired them, helped through through bad times.”

And being complimented was always a good thing, but they were too curious as to why they had been called and brought them to America.

“The idea I had, in which you boys can really help, is a concert for mutant-human equality. We'll spread messages of tolerance, of harmony. And hopefully make some money for our cause through the food and drink stalls that will operated by my students. We already have fifteen bands signed, but you boys would be the cherry on top, the headliners, the most honoured guests. It will be a day for us mutants, for our fight for freedom and respect, for our basic rights. But a day than can also be enjoyed as well. What do you say? Will you join this concert?”

Of course they did.

And that was just the beginning. Charles saw a lot of heroic potential in this four boys, but didn't want to push them too much. Better ease things with something more their speed, like a concert. One day for celebration (mutant celebration!), for enjoyment, for music and art and for all kinds of people to be happy and united...

The concert was an incredible success, as was expected. They sang all their greatest hits to one of the greatest audiences ever recorded and one of the most varied to ever been in the same place. All types of people had gone to see the bands, mutants and human, Americans and foreigners, people off all walks of life. People with all types of mutations were singing along in unison with humans. It was a true moment of unity.

But there was an attack of course. A group of young mutants in some of the front rows were attacked, as they were trying to get to the band during one of their last songs. The boys of Queen, without giving it much thought, decided that couldn't stand. Before the Xmen arrived, Freddie had used his voice to stop the attackers and make them cuff themselves, and Deaky and Roger used electricity and wings to protect the victims before any more harm could come to them.

Charles smiled form his chair, despite the circumstances, he smiled a very knowing smile. He had somehow felt that these boys had heroes inside them, and he'd been right. The tales and pictures of Queen bravely and heroically facing some attacker spread like wildfire, making them even more famous and even more admired even among non-mutants. These mutant boys were a force for peace, suddenly.

They were talented, they were heroes, they were gorgeous. The world was in love.

Freddie's voice and showmanship was finally appreciated outside of mutant circles, and he started making it to the top of the “best singers ever” lists. He found recognition and love and a platform to express his many conflicting feelings about life. Love, faith, mutantkind, music, all were part of increasingly beautiful and sophisticated new songs. The band helped him express himself and occasionally he helped the X-Men too, making him feel that he was helping others. It was a great way to pick himself up when he was feeling down.

John met with other electricity mutants and founded a sort of electrical club there in America (they were called the Watt gang). There they experimented and created new ways of handling the electricity, new amplifiers, new instruments... They loved maximized the electrical power, they loved all the amazing things they could do with it. And loving their gift made them love and accept themselves more. It was great.

Brian continued studying his old friends the stars, hoping that in some future he could get a doctorate – write some thousand words on how they worked, where they were, what they were. They were his oldest friends, but there was a lot yet to be discovered. He kept writing songs and touring with the band, even sang some songs of his own. Found a voice. Softer and less outrageous than Freddie's perhaps, but every bit as beautiful.

Roger also wrote and sang some songs of his own, focused on creating more and better aart, on polishing himself a bit. He was also the spokesperson of a number of association for the fair treatment of people with visible mutations, and spoke out against the beatings and attacks he himself had experienced not that long ago. He often helped the X-Men, and somehow helped Kurt and Storm heal from their Warren-shaped wounds. He had a place.

Queen helped the mutants, and the became something else.

Those four long haired boys from England weren't just mutants or musicians anymore, they were icons, they were.. They were legends.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Would love some feedback if you enjoyed this mess. What can I say, I love AUs. 
> 
> Should go like this:  
> 1\. Beginning 2. Meeting 3. Band 4. Superhero business.  
> Title from the Muse song.
> 
> Thanks for reading! You know you want to comment!


End file.
